Fairy Tales
by BelleIllumina
Summary: Sherlolly intertwined with Fairy tales. Oneshots/Twoshots. Just spur of the moment inspirations. Could suggest to me what Fairy tale to do next.
1. Rapunzel

**Standard Disclaimer applies. Just some oneshots when the inspiration strikes. Still thinking on Chapter two of TCSWardrobe. But it will come.**

**Enjoy.**

**00000**

**Let down your hair. [Rapunzel!lock]**

"Why do you even stay there?" Molly Hooper suppressed a growl and whimper. It's been the seventh day. And however amused she might be in the first two days, she was getting exasperated. "Given that you are hiding various herbs and specimens inside that tower of yours. There is no way that you could've dragged such cadavers up there when you haven't even stepped out that window. Doesn't it stink inside there? Liver?"

The first day the strange man arrived in her tower's clearing, he took one look of the tower and called out impolitely to 'whoever resides inside that dingy tower to show himself'. When Molly showed herself with curiosity brimming within her, he scowled.

Molly had thought that finally this was the man who would save her.

She was utterly wrong. And she had never felt a greater urge to throw a liver at him. She considered herself a good shot, even heights above. "I believe sir you only come here to find someone to talk to. You sound sad, does no one want to talk to such a bright mind as you?"

No answer. She struck a nerve. "And you come here since I would have no choice but listen. Though I do love to hear your insight. I've been alone for so long."

She's been inside the tower for 25 years., a little window and every corner memorized. The only faces she knew were that of her captor and benefactor and caretaker and teacher. Captor: Sebastian Moran, taken her from home when she was six. Benefactor: James Moriarty, one who paid for her capture, for what she has no idea. Though he had said that they were betrothed. He often visited her. Caretaker: Irene Adler, when the former one died. And her teacher: Mike Stamford. He was gone, killed when she had bested him with his very work. Cutting up organs and concocting poisons.

"How did you come to those organs anyway?" He called out. She sighed. She wouldn't get any work done so she dropped everything and cleaned her hands. Dragging herself to the small window of her tower, she slumped and looked out, not down, not to him. All she will see would be a mop of dark hair and tall stature. What she held onto was his voice, so sure and deep and unwavering.

"Supplied to me."

"I thought you would be gone the first day. I did tell you there is a secret passage there." She felt her throat close up. "You're a strong woman, you could go anywhere."

"Except that I do not know anywhere."

"Nonsense. You have the means to leave." Her back ached in protest as she curled up by the window.

"I know." A whisper he didn't hear.

"Your captors?" She whimpered. She doubted he would hear. "I've deduced them all already. Your caretaker, even your suppliers. A woman and two men. The woman visits more frequent."

Silence. Molly was curled fatally now by the window, her fist stuck in her mouth to muffle her sobs. Her eyes closed as she tried to banish the image of Irene being beaten in front of her because she had tried to slip away from her watch. Irene was a considerate woman under her cold exterior and seeing her break in front of her wrecked her with guilt. Banishing Moriarty's words of _warning_ if ever she tried again.

"Molly!?" She forced herself calm. "I disappointed you."

"No. You merely missed some things."

"There's always something."

"Some things, Sherlock." Her voice broke when she said his name.

"What?" She couldn't see but the man at the base of her tower was now looking up at her window, hands in fists. "What Molly!?"

—

Sherlock felt himself shaking. He wasn't daft. He knew who her captors are. The days before his arrival to the tower were of surveillance, he had followed through his immediate plan to use Molly as a bait and accessory in capturing Moriarty since she seemed to be one of his greatest assets. His goal was to determine the pattern of his visits or at least her caretaker's but none. Even Molly has no idea, or so she told.

That was a week ago. Each day he would come to the tower early in the morning waiting to know if Moriarty had made a visit. Each day he would ask. Each day this Molly would slip his guard and bare his emotions without even seeing his expressions. She who had successfully returned every insult of his into something rendering him speechless. She who he made cry yet still welcomes him the next day. She who had argues one moment and stuttered the next. She who was the strongest woman he has the grace of meeting.

Yes there was a secret passage. Yes, he had deduced every inch of her tower the first day. Yes, he had asked her the question why she stayed every single day. She would always say the same answer of where she would go if she did. And he would always tell her it was nonsense.

There was definitely something different today. Why only now did she point out that he missed _some things?_ Why?

"Molly!" He shouted now battling himself to not tear the wall down and rush to her. _Focus Sherlock._ A whimper was all he heard. His control snapped. Picking up his sword he moved and demolished the secret entrance of the tower and rushed up the stairs.

He should have come up sooner.

There by the window was Molly, curled up and crying. Her arms were filled with bruises and her feet were shackled to a wall with length enough to roam the place. Long locks of hair were scattered on the floor, meters of them. There were patched of dried blood on the floor and some traces of dark hair/

He should've come up sooner.

"No. No. He'll hurt you too!" Molly. He snapped away from his deductions. "Leave. He'll know… I… I can't leave…"

He marched his way her and he was trying not to let the red on the edges of his gaze consume him. If there was anything he couldn't tolerate, it was hurting women. He remembered throwing some intruders to his home when they'd hurt Madam Hudson. No. Not Molly. He gathered her in his arms and checked for more injuries, any broken bones or the like. He should've brought John with him. He would've known the things he missed. The Doctor's virtues would have forced him to get up sooner.

"I can't leave." She was sobbing. Her mid back length hair unevenly cut.

"You will." He had never heard his very own voice shake and crack.

"I don't have anywhere." She was trying to pull away from him. He would never let her.

"**You have me. You will have me.** I'll do anything, but you couldn't and wouldn't stay here any longer." He was shaking. He couldn't take the shock in her eyes mingling with pain. Couldn't take that she was still denying this. Couldn't take that he was so desperate. That the strong woman he had deduced her to be was so right that he never deduced she was broken. "Molly!**You will have me. You can and you will have me. For as long as you want and even then I will pester you for more.**"

"I can't. He'll hurt her! I cannot. He would kill Irene. She.. Oh lord she was kind to me… she."

"Then I will save her, but please let me take you away from here."

She did.

—-

He had punched a wall until his fist bled. He had paced outside the infirmary as John and Mary kicked him out for pacing inside while muttering what he would do to Moriarty. He had begged, yes begged, Mycroft to protect her in whatever means necessary and asked him to be ready to welcome a former criminal woman. He might not know but he had realized that his words to Molly were a vow. A promise he was determined to keep, spur of the moment it might be. He had asked freedom to kill Sebastian Moran and James Moriarty.

"Be thankful that I am asking." It was granted anyway.

Sherlock wasn't seen for two weeks after. He had staged his plan inside Molly's tower and waited for Moriarty's arrival there.

Another two weeks a blood soaked Sherlock returned with Irene Adler, bruised and worse for wear but alive. Molly Hooper welcomed them, tumbling away from John and Mary's side. The two women engulfed each other in a hug, relieved tears running down their cheeks and Sherlock saw Irene Adler's mask washed away.

He was too tired to catch on that Molly was already in front of him until she hugged him, blood and all.

He only felt he had succeeded by then. All his weariness faded and he slumped to her, wrapping his arms around her with a fierceness of a thirsty traveler. "It's done." He chanted to her ear.

"Thank you." She chanted back, tears making her eyes shine like gems. "**Would you have me?**"

He kissed her. "**Forever as you have me.**"

**FIN**


	2. Little Mermaid

**Deducing Scales and Tails [Little Mermaid!lock]**

Long. Expect it. And maybe enjoy? Seriously gonna do some Fairy Tale Sherlolly. Posted in too. Title: Fairy Tales. Fairy Tale prompts would be lovely!

Sherlock had said it for the thousandth time, that Woman wasn't the one who saved him from the shipwreck. In reply to that thousandth was Mycroft saying that unless someone 'dethrones' Irene Adler as his 'saviour' in the face of the noble and high court she would stand as his betrothed. It was the gift of the monarchy to the saviour of the youngest Holmes Prince.

So he had snarled and ignored, deduced blatantly and insulted the Lady Adler at every turn. _Liar._ It wasn't her fault that she found him when she did. But he knew that she wasn't the one. His memory wasn't so daft to simply forget.

_Brown eyes._

He once again left his _fiancee _to the some random knight she was flirting with to return to his experiments and have a good view of the sea. He could suffer the rumors and the whispers, he'd gone through his life with it to care now.

_Calloused fingers._

_Caring touch._

May as well visit his mind palace, maybe the fragments of description of his saviour reach completion with much more contemplation. And then maybe he could find some ways to 'persuade' the notable nobles of the court to see him and the Woman incompatible so that he would be back alone and with experiments and solving cases with John from Lestrade while eating Mrs. Hudson's biscuits.

"Oh dear." he growled as he realized that his feet had brought him to the beach and closer and closer to where he was found. And a woman was dragging herself out of the ocean with nothing but a dripping sheet around her. Oh dear indeed. He had ordered himself to turn around and leave.

_Brown hair._

—-

"JOHN!" The infirmary doors flew open and Doctor Watson jumped more on the shout than the door slamming open.

"Sherlock how many times have I told you to learn how to —" When he saw the dripping woman in his arms, the change from angry friend to concerned doctor was visual. "On the bed, now. Call for Mary, and if you could scream for a nurse on your way out."

With a few moments of hesitation from Sherlock, of which he spent on looking at the woman on the bed with an unreadable expression, he strode away and shouted for nurses to assist him. When he returned with Mary, he still hadn't changed from his soaking clothes and his jaw was still too tense and his eyes still blazing for John to not know that there was something happening. Mary on the other hand, rushed to the woman's side with worry written clearly on her face.

"What happened!?" Mary brushed away the stray brown locks from the woman's forehead. He had tried to dry her the best he could with the nurses' assistance but it would seem that the lady was comfortable with the cold and water on her skin. She did shiver every now and then though. "Sherlock, it is easy to say you found her what happened?"

"I found her whilst walking by the beach. She was dragging that sheet…" His head turned. "Where's the sheet? John, where's the sheet!?"

John scrambled to get said sheet (which he had wrung to dry) and give it to Sherlock, no doubt for him to deduce. Which he did. "It's the ship sail."

"The what?"

"THE ship sail! The ship I was on! My ship! Don't you see!?" Sherlock started pacing. John followed him with his gaze, his mind trying to catch up on his. "Impossible."

"There was no woman in your ship was there?" John asked tentatively.

"YES! Finally! Now who would she be!? And why would she have the sail of my ship?"

"A stowaway?" Mary supplied only for Sherlock to sigh annoyingly. "Well if you could just tell this all in one go instead of making us guess then being frustrated about it!"

"Do not guess! Analyze! Deduce! Observe!" Sherlock said in frustration. He was already ruffling his hair as he paced by the foot of the bed while the Watsons sat on either side. "And if there was a woman on board, even in disguise, I'll know it. And there was none."

"A mermaid then." Mary once again pushed. Earning a shocked gaze from her husband and a scathing one from Sherlock. An 'I expected better from you' one. "Then tell me oh great Sherlock Holmes, what are your ideas?"

"A daughter of a fisherman from the callouses on her hands. Might as well be by sea when the ship sank, found me and saved me. Simple. Then recently found the sail and dragged it to shore." Sherlock waved a hand.

"She was the one who saved you?" John was dumbfounded. "How could you be so sure and just not putting this poor girl into misery so that you could get away from Adler!"

"And… She was naked and had fallen unconscious just for a sheet? And from the state of the sheet itself, it was soaked for more time than it floating around and having a great chance of landing on some beach. Why would some woman swim at sea for a sheet? Naked? Other than mermaids that is"

"Please Mary, do try and be logical. Mermaids are but stupid myths made by stupid minds. Not yours. Just… no."

The woman woke up at that moment, thrashing at her covers like she was drowning at sea, except it was air. She was gasping and pulling and pushing the covers that John had to physically restrain her while Mary soothed her. All the while Sherlock observed. He saw her shocking brown eyes. And he was sure that she was the one who saved him, especially when their eyes met and familiarity and surprise settled there. And the mere fact she calmed down and breathed. She breathed too deep that it seemed she was tasting the very air.

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked without prelude. And she could only stare back for a few moments before opening her mouth. Nothing came out and it stunned her before she remembered something. She motioned to her throat and Mary hurried to give her water. "You cannot speak."

She nodded. He rushed to her side, pushing John away and grabbing her shoulders and trying not to drown in her eyes. "You have spoken before. Do not lie to me. Something happened that you couldn't speak. How? How did you come upon my ship's sail? How did you come to that part of the beach? Where did you come from?"

He was firing questions and watching her eyes grow panicked. "Did you go there knowing that somehow I will come there?"

She slapped him hard at that, then stared at him like he wasn't everything she expected him to be and more. She stared at him with wide eyes before it came to a small smile and he was rendered speechless. She used that moment to explain to them through signs that she couldn't speak and if she could write on something she would gladly answer as much questions as she could.

"You were the one who saved me. Why did you come?" The shock on her face with no trace of confusion was enough give away. He smirked in triumph and stood back. "Did you come for the reward? It is marriage to me if you do not know."

A single tear fell from her eyes and he couldn't deny that even without the Watsons' glares he felt like dragging himself to hell for punishment.

—

"I have found my Saviour and with it would come the annulment of Lady Adler and mine engagement. Next time dear nobles of court, do use your miniscule brains a lot harder to at least know when a person is lying. Not that the Miss Adler might have requested it as her prize as she had slept with almost all of you here. Shame really. Well good day."

Sherlock dragged a mortified _Molly_ with him.

—-

Months passed and Sherlock had succeeded in delaying the pressure of the court that he marry his mute saviour claiming that she would need to get used of him and his lifestyle. He had every intent to scare her away with his experiments and the organs and the chemicals.

He failed.

When he showed her his study and workroom (Mummy insisted), she looked at it with wonder and overflowing curiosity he found himself transfixed as she took it all in. "What you haven't seen something like this? You must have been pretty desolate to lack such things in life."

She shook her head in amusement. Finally she was used on her feet, Sherlock was amazed when she saw her tumbling and falling when she first attempted to walk. And her sheer focus on her legs were forever imprinted in his mind. Also the mere amusement (and embarrassment) when she had flipped her skirts to examine her legs more closely, in front of him and the Watsons. _She has such beautiful legs._

She had asked about anatomy and how the body worked. She asked so many questions that he was only happy to answer and show off, even the stupid ones because she was so enthusiastic to learn. And often times she forget that she has no voice and when he witnessed such time he couldn't get off the nagging feeling when he saw her face crumble even for a moment. _Pain._

She was also an early riser, he would know since he would be staying up all night long working. When the first ray of the sun peaks in the horizon he would see her small silhouette from the window as she walked out the palace and to the beach. He never dared to ask questions.

_"She would dip her legs into the ocean and stare at the horizon like she wanted to drown there." _

Three months passed and he couldn't delay.

"Marry me." He said as he stared at her crushing some herbs and her hair loose from it's tie. He told himself it was because Mycroft had once again given him an ultimatum.

_"Do you love me?"_

"Yes." He told himself it was a lie.

_"Okay."_

He also told himself that marriage was advantageous for he needed the time to solve her mystery.

—

She looked wonderful in white. He also favored her in yellow and purple. Purple because for some reason one of his tunics became her sleep wear, he had to wet his lips and clear his throat when he barged into her room without knocking. _Beautiful legs. _

Back to the present, he watched as she leaned over the edge of the ship with her eyes wide in happiness, before it crumbled into longing and again, pain. He wanted to ask her everything but he remembered her tears and her evasion and however much he hated not knowing something, she was important enough to hold his tongue to not hurt her like he did their earlier days. A first as John said.

He didn't miss the glee crumbling to a moment's disappointment when she tried to speak after the wedding's obligatory kiss and failed. Too much information for one moment and he couldn't even understand an inkling of it. And his sheer evasion on her past and her circumstances of coming was evidence enough.

_ Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth._

He pushed the thought aside.

—-

When he entered their room that night she was by the window with a jeweled dagger in her shaking hands and horror in her very being. The gold ring around her finger and the blade shining eerily in the moonlight.

"Molly."

A few moments was the only thing given to him to see the pain in her gaze and the sheer love it held. And the apology she shaped in her lips. The scales that formed on the sides of her face and the gills on the side of her neck. The webbed skin in between her fingers.

The blade dropped with a thud before she whirled herself out the window and into the waters.

Without second thought he followed, his mind calculating that he needed to get a hold of her before they hit the water. The distraction of her legs slowly turning to a tail felt like everything went in slow motion. _Because she is a mermaid and she could easily slip away._

He couldn't imagine a life without her by then.

Sherlock was and always is and always will be a selfish man. When he had taken hold of her waist just before they hit the water, he used all his strength and adrenaline to hold on and not let her swim away.

He felt himself being pulled to the surface.

"Sh— Sherlock! What do you think you were doing!?" Her voice was lulling and lilting. _A siren's, almost._ "You should have let me be!"

"No." He coughed out. "You are my wife…"

"You need not take in mind social and political obligations just because you need to appease your people or the court."

"Shut up." It came out harsh that he needed to kiss her forehead to appease. "Let me finish."

"You are…" A coughing fit "My wife. And my companion. My…humanity, no pun intended. My heart. So please, stay with me. The cultures needed rechecking and I am sure you wouldn't want me having a cold."

"And you plan to ask all about sea life I could tell."

"That too." He desperately wished it wasn't too late.

—

A little late.

It took Sherlock meeting Molly's family to discover that she was a princess, youngest and only daughter with a horde of protective brothers and nieces and nephews and sister in laws that he needed to face, and that he now owes Mary for being correct.

But either way, he got Molly back beside him and it was a worthwhile hardship.

—-

His daughter had a notable green scale on her nape when she was born. Her hair and 'feline' eyes were his but her smile was clearly Molly's. Elianna. Eli.

Three years later, his son had a similar scale on his nape. He got Molly's brown 'sea mermaid' eyes and the rest were his. Hyrum.

BOOM.

"Sherlock!" Two pairs of footsteps rushed to his study. "What!?"

"Nothing Molly, a simple miscalculation." He wouldn't tell that it was caused by a distraction.

"Good?" She would always know though.

"Best." He abandoned his experiments and scooped his daughter in his arms. Eli laughing outright at the state of his face and hair after the mini explosion. "What say you of a day out?"

"The beach?"

"Anywhere you would want Siren."

"Mermaid."

"No difference."

"And why?"

"I am still a sailor ensnared."

"You are no sailor."

"Molly, do try to be courteous enough to not shoot down my attempts on wooing and flirting." Sherlock huffed his soot filled face adorable paired with Eli's squirming form in his arms. "It is proper etiquette."

"When had we be proper?"

"Oh you didn't just say that."

"Oh?"

"Mama… "

"Later Sherlock."

He held on to those two words and planned.

**FIN**


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